


Reincarnation

by Lilly_Bei_Stark



Category: Hellboy - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Only a little divergent though, Post-Golden Army, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilly_Bei_Stark/pseuds/Lilly_Bei_Stark
Summary: Reincarnation is a funny thing. Sometimes it teaches us a lesson. Sometimes it gives what we want more than anything. Sometimes, it does both, but not for the person who has been reincarnated. (OR: How John met Nuada for the second time.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScarlettRedRose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ScarlettRedRose).



> A/N: I'm usually a HB/John fangirl, but there's just something about John and Nuada that makes for fun stories. Maybe it has to do with the ability to give Abe back Nuala, put Liz with Red, and neatly tie up the team pairings with the agent and the elf prince. ANYWAYS...This fic is for ScarlettRedRose. This was an idea that they wanted to see written and I have put forth my very best effort. I hope I haven't strayed too far from your dream Scarlett.
> 
> Warnings: M/M, swearing, canon typical violence
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I'd like to, but if wishes were horses, those wishes would all run away, shrieking and bucking, terrified of a great unseen evil. (Anyone who gets that reference, you're awesome.)
> 
> As always, ENJOY!

John was certain that he was dreaming. For one thing, he had no memory of how he had gotten to this place. It was a beautiful place, though, so he had no intention of running away just yet. His thoughts were lightly faded, like they were a mere echo in the background to other, more prominent ones. At the moment, the whys and hows in his head were quietly nudged away under the curious pondering, _Where did he go?_

He cast his eyes around. There were repeating archways along his left, opening the outdoor hallway to the garden along the side. To his right was the building that he had just searched, looking for someone important.

As he walked silently down the white stone floor, he came to a place where the garden bubbled out, surrounding a tree that was lit with magically glowing, white cloth ties. The little bows of cloth hugged tightly to the thinnest of the tree's branches, going all the way up to the top. The tree itself was filled with amber, orange, and red leaves that provided both canopy and carpet to any that sat there. By chance, the one that John was looking for was on one of the stone benches at the tree's base. 

His white-gold hair flowed out over his shoulders, bringing a dash of light to the black and red of his clothes. John carefully stepped through the fallen leaves and plush grass to reach the other man's side. He saw the pale, knife-point ear cutting through pale hair, which twitched upon hearing his presence. It brought a smile to his lips, knowing that the man; no, the elf, hadn't lost his attentive nature. He reached forwards, to grasp the strong shoulder in front of him.

All at once he was on his back. The wind was knocked out of him, but he smiled because of it. The pale face that loomed over him was both familiar and strange. It was marked with a few scars, and it was beautiful and strong. Golden eyes peered down at him, laughter hidden in their depths. The elf reached out to smooth a hand over John's cheek, making the man close his eyes at the cool comfort he offered. 

"You've slept too long." The elf chided gently, his voice echoey with the quality of a dream.

"You simply rose to early, my prince." John heard his voice replying. He couldn't open his eyes anymore. The conscious part of him was aware of a noise, beeping in the background. He mentally grimaced at the racket, wanting to stay here in this world a little longer.

"A warrior should always be early to rise. What is your excuse for that, hmm?" The elf teased, not seeming to notice that John was waking; that this dream was being taken away from them. 

"I have none." He said. "But, pray, forgive me for this lapse, Prince Nuada."

 

John snapped awake, the name _Nuada_ still on his lips. His eyes found the white plaster ceiling of his one person room and the rest of him found disappointment as the beautiful scene and the comfort he had been feeling evaporated under the duress of his annoying digital alarm.

Annoyed, he rolled over, reached out, and slapped the button to turn the invasive alarm off. Silence swept over the room. John buried his head in his pillow, wishing he could go back to sleep, but also lamenting that he wouldn't likely have the same dream again. He huffed unhappily as the chill of the room started to seep into his uncovered arm and finally gave up on his dream paradise. John rolled onto his back again, glaring at the ceiling. It had nothing to say to his hostile looks, and the silence finally pushed John out of his bed.

He quietly plodded his way over to the bathroom so he could shower, reminding himself to be happy about the solid five minutes of hot water he was allowed. Boxer briefs were stripped away and left in the hamper. He pulled the gray plastic curtain shut over the shower and turned the water on. Once it stopped feeling like little needle pricks of ice on his arm, he pushed himself into the shower stall and set about washing himself. 

He was tempted to indulge in a little "stress relief", having a new fantasy of an elf pinning him to a bed of leaves to feed that particular fire, but then he remembered the five minute time limit on his hot water again. The limit was short for washing. It definitely wouldn't be enough for... _that_. Instead, he quickly scrubbed his skin, lathered his hair, and rinsed away the soap. There was a little timer affixed to the wall in shower that told him he had one minute left to enjoy the heat, but he turned off the shower and stepped out anyways. As nice as that extra minute would have been, they had to conserve where they could to keep this base from being just as cold as the Antarctic plain outside its walls. It might not exactly be warm inside, but it was _way_ warmer than it was outside. 

John toweled himself off. He tried to ignore the growing chill that made him want to dive back under his blankets. He went to his locker instead, pulling out a fresh set of underwear and a set of long johns. The clothes went on, then he took out one of his off-the-rack suits to put on over everything else. This was all he wore inside the base, and while most people did the same, a lot of them agreed that it wasn't enough to keep the chill from stealing into ones' bones and freezing them from the inside.

If he wanted, John could go to the cafeteria before checking into work. Maybe there would be something warm to eat that could keep the cold at bay. But John preferred to use this time differently. He set his personal coffee pot, sent to him by Abe (his new hero), to brew and sat down at his computer. The coffee pot and the computer shared the same desk, which made John very cautious whenever he had to brew his coffee, for fear of damaging the delicate electronics. 

He turned on the computer, logged into the BPRD intranet, and looked at his email inbox for new messages. His sapien friend usually messaged him at least once a week, and there hadn't been a message in the last six day. John hoped that he hadn't been forgotten, though he knew such a possibility was there. Without being around his friends all the time, they might not remember that he was here, on the edge of the world, hoping for any attachment to the people he had been forced to leave behind. 

As it turned out, there _was_ a message from Abe. And one from Liz. And, shockingly, one from Hellboy. Curiosity overwhelming him, John opened the email from Hellboy first. Immediately, he laughed. The entirety of the email was, _Hey. Mail me if you're not too pissed at me._ John shook his head, now a little less shocked that the demon had mailed him, considering how succinct the message was. He opened a reply box and sent back, _Hello Red. I'm not really that angry with you anymore. Just a little sore about being sent away and extremely cold because it is an ice box up here. What did you want to talk about?_ John grinned happily as he hit SEND and moved onto the next message. 

Liz's email was longer than Red's. She told him about an incident with some terrifying Tooth Fairies, which resulted in Red getting seen by the media. She spoke about Hellboy's new handler, a Johann Krauss, and John only felt a little twinge of pain at the knowledge that he had been completely replaced. Then, Liz wrote about the Goblin Market (they finally found it!) and about a beautiful elven princess that Abe was head over heels for. Apparently, Princess Nuala, a name that startled John for a moment before he shook off the surprise, was on the run from her brother, who had plans to awaken the Golden Army and wipe out humanity. 

John felt his heart falter in his chest when Prince Nuada appeared on the page. It was impossible. He shouldn't know that name; not when it related to a real person. And the Prince Nuada in Liz's tale sounded like a far cry from the one in John's dreams. Each time the name was mentioned for doing something horrible; kidnapping Nuala, stabbing Hellboy, awakening the army, it all needled at John. He just couldn't resolve the two, very different elves that were presented before him.

When his secondary alarm went off, John knew he had been thinking about this too long and too hard. He quickly finished up reading the email; Hellboy challenged Nuada and won the right to command the army, Nuala stabbed herself to keep Nuada from attacking Hellboy after the battle, but the two of them were okay and Nuada was being sent to a BPRD prison facility, and the team had collectively quit the bureau. John hurriedly typed out his shocked response and asked what they were all doing now that they were out from under the BPRD's thumb. Then, he had to turn the computer off. He wouldn't have time to read Abe's email, especially if it was as long as Liz's. He would answer it later, maybe on his lunch break, but now he had to pour his coffee into a thermos and clock in.

\--------------------------------

The small cell block that John was responsible for had been relatively quiet this morning. There were three cells in this block, two of them filled. It wasn't too much of a chore to sit and watch the cells, making sure that neither inhabitant was up to anything funny.

Cell one held a woman, deceptively small and thin. She was always well behaved, so long as she didn't see the full moon. Her cell had no window, and the wall of bars faced inwards, towards the rest of the base. Therefore they hadn't had any trouble with her. Usually she just requested books and kept to herself. No one would guess that she had once been the source of viscous animal attacks all over the UK. She had killed hundreds. The police hadn't been able to stop her in her terrifying werewolf form. It had only ended when the comely woman in the cell turned herself in; so afraid of herself that she no longer considered freedom an option.

The second cell was covered in darkness. The creature inside didn't have a human form, as far as the BPRD knew. It flitted about randomly between the shadow of a wolf and the shadow of something much larger and more sinister. It was hard to see its form clearly as shadows spread out from its body, covering everything in reach, but unable to pass the blessed walls and bars around it. It made the interior of its cell look very much like a permanent fog at night, despite the hall outside the bars being brightly lit. 

John was almost happy with his two charges. The first, whose name was Samantha Queen, was actually nice to sit and chat with. John often dragged his chair away from the wall to sit near the bars. He stayed where he could keep an eye on both prisoners and talked to Sam about anything and everything. Usually, this would be frowned upon. The BPRD didn't want its agents gaining sympathy for the murderers behind their bars, but Samantha was always a special case. Even the prisoner next to her, usually just called 'Shadow', was relatively docile. He would certainly chomp of a bit off anyone that got too close to his cell, but most of the time, he was quietly pacing or sleeping.

John's morning was becoming another one of those calm, simple work days. Then, suddenly, that all changed.

The agent was sitting near the bars, keeping an eye on both cells and chatting amiably with Sam about radio shows that he grew up listening to. The doors to his left opened with a hiss. John looked up, unused to anyone coming in during his shift. When he saw an entire parade of soldiers, he knew that something serious was coming. He quickly got up, sliding his chair back along the wall where it usually was. 

As soon as he was out of the main path, the soldiers began marching into the room. Between a group of four of them was a tall figure with a shock of white-gold hair. John's mind flashed back to his dream, but he shook it aside, convinced that it was nothing more than a coincidence. The armored soldiers guided their prisoner, who swayed slightly as if he had been drugged, into the third cell of John's area. When the prisoner was shoved inside and the door swung shut, a quiet hum began. John had heard the sound before. It was what happened when the bars were electrified, a measure that was only ever used against extremely dangerous prisoners.

The four armored soldiers turned to leave. The last of them paused at John's side, handing him a clipboard. It wasn't usual for a prisoner transport to be all quick efficiency, John was sure, but it was still a little unnerving the way that none of them talked or looked him in the eye. Then, the soldier that had handed him the clipboard surprised him by doing both. 

"Be careful of him when the drugs wear off. He's stronger than he looks and way too smart. Don't underestimate Nuada." 

John jolted. That name _again_! The soldier seemed to take his shock as understanding and headed after his teammates. John stared after him. Had he really just been handed the elf prince from Liz's email and his own dreams? He remembered the clipboard and looked immediately down at it. 

His ears weren't playing tricks on him, it seemed. The prisoner was labeled Prince Nuada of the Clan Bethmoora. His crimes, murder and attempted genocide of the human race. John glanced back up at the prisoner in the third cell. The elf was still facing away from him, standing in the center of the cell and slightly swaying. Still, the look of him was eerily familiar. His clothes weren't the same as in John's dream, obviously, as he had been stripped of any armor or weapons, but the cloth parts themselves were still a combination of blacks and reds. His pale skin and white-gold hair were exactly like the Nuada from John's dream, even if the hair was a little stringy from being out in the damp snow outside. The agent wondered if this was just how all elves looked, though how he would have known that in his dream, before he'd ever seen one of them, was beyond him. 

"Agent Myers?" Samantha's voice broke him out of his thoughts. He flashed a smile at the werewolf woman. 

"Yeah? Sorry, I was distracted." He replied. She blushed all the way up to the roots of her light brown hair. 

"S-sorry if I'm interrupting your thoughts. I wouldn't want to be rude. I was just curious about what just happened." Sam asked, fidgeting with the sleeve of her long pink sweatshirt. Her yellow eyes flicked to him, then away shyly. John smiled, a little surprised that she was asking. She usually didn't ask about other prisoners.

"That was a new prisoner delivery. We've got a third person in here now." He leaned against the wall, looking at all of the cells. Samantha sat in the center of her cell, surrounded by her second hand books, with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. 

"What did he do? Or she...I mean...I don't want to assume..." She asked, casting glances to the wall on the right of her as if she could see through 'Shadow' and over to the new prisoner at the far right of the room. 

"He. His name is Prince Nuada and he tried to kill all of humanity." John answered, looking over at the cell housing his new prisoner. He thought he saw that pale head lift, just slightly, but he couldn't be sure. 

"Why'd he do that?" Sam asked meekly.

_Revenge_ , John thought. Then he frowned, wondering why that was the response that came to his mind first. He knew the elf hated humans, but Liz never really went into why that was in her letter. And even in his dream, he had no hint of the prince being angry at humanity. There was nothing in his dream that would give him that idea, so where had it come from?

"I have no idea." He eventually said to answer Samantha's question. 

She seemed like she was about to as something else, but the bell went off somewhere above them to signal day shift's lunch break. John's temporary replacement came through the door on the left, giving a smile to both Myers and Sam. The woman blushed scarlet again, adding fuel to John's secret theory that she harbored a crush on his lunchtime replacement, Gary.

John handed over the new clipboard to Gary, jerking his head at the third cell to indicate that the two were related. When he received a nod, he made his way out the door and headed towards the cafeteria. 

\----------------------------------

Back in his room with a tray full of food, John once again turned on his computer and opened up his email. He absently popped a finger through the plastic wrapping around his chicken salad sandwich and clicked on Abe's email, excited to get more information about his friends. He reach much of the same detail about the fight with the Golden Army, though with a much heavier emphasis on how beautiful and heroic Princess Nuala was in stopping her brother. Abe's message though, unlike Liz's, also provided more details about what had happened to them after their unexpected departure from the BPRD. 

After receiving a ride back to the bureau HQ to collect their belongings, where Manning pleaded with them the entire way to reconsider, they took a few must-have items, and of course Hellboy's cats, and left. Nuala led them through the troll market and into one of the elves' hidden underground cities. Magical camouflage protected them from human intruders. Though the city lacked many modern conveniences, it had magic and goblin technology to more than make up for the things that the newly retired BPRD agents might have missed. 

Nuala had been crowned queen of the elves after her return, having successfully stopped her brother and being the king's only remaining child. Abe said many times that he had faith she would make an excellent leader. With her influence, the team had settled comfortably into the elves world. They were not looked down upon, as they were in the human world. They were treated as equals; as people. While John lamented that he would not likely be able to visit his friends, he was happy that they had found a good place to call home. And at least he could keep in contact with them via the miraculous internet connection that Abe had managed to rig up with a goblin mechanic, which had allowed his friend to send out this message in the first place. 

John wolfed down his food as he finished reading the email, the end of which was filled with minor details about the elven city and how beautiful it was. He thought absently that, if it was anything like the city he had been dreaming about, then it must be beautiful indeed. He wished he could see it, but he had the feeling that non-special humans were probably a _persona non grata_ in the elven city.

\------------------------------------------

When John got back to the cell block, he opened the door to chaos. Sam was crying, 'Shadow' was snarling agitatedly, and Gary was unconscious on the floor beside Nuada's cell. John's heart lept into his throat. He ran across the room, grabbing one of the fallen agent's arms and pulling him away from the electrified cell bars. Nuada watched him from inside his cell, eyes fixed on John with as much hate as he could muster. John ignored him for the time, instead checking his fellow guard's neck for a pulse. 

It was slow and thready, but most definitely there. Now that he looked, he could see blood running from the man's nose. If he had to guess, John would say that Nuada had pulled Gary into the bars with enough force to break his nose. The electricity had been enough to knock him out. Any other damage wasn't visible and John knew it was best to get his fellow agent to the infirmary. He reached up to the radio clipped to his collar. 

"Agent down in Cellblock D. Electrical damage, possible broken nose and possible concussion. No breakouts. Agent injury team requested." He said into the radio. His eyes rose up to look at Nuada with a glare. The smug expression on the elf's face faltered for a moment, before it reappeared; bigger and more annoying than ever. "I hope you know we don't carry the keys to your cell. Hurting us won't get you out." John told him with a scowl. Nuada crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Perhaps it does not free me, but it will certainly keep me entertained." The prince replied snidely. John rolled his eyes skyward, silently counting to ten to let the swell of anger die down. This Nuada definitely wasn't the one from his dreams. There was nothing kind in the cold prince.

"Agent Myers...?" Sam's quavering voice diverted his attention and he turned his head towards her cell. 

"He's okay, Sam. Gary's gonna be okay." He assured her. Silently, he promised to himself that if Gary _wasn't_ okay, then he would find a way to punish Nuada. He couldn't hurt the prince, because of his connection to Princess....to Queen Nuala, but he would find a way; because Gary made Sam happy and Sam was his friend. 

"Thank you, Agent Myers..." Sam called meekly, her voice full of relief. 

The injury team came in then, carting a rolling stretcher. They chased John away from the other agent so that they could check him over. Quiet words passed between them, and then the team was lifting Gary onto the stretcher and taking him out.

John looked at Nuada, finding the elf studying him closely. He glared at the beautiful face and amber eyes. Part of him wanted to threaten the prince. He wanted to make sure that such an event never happened again. The other part of him was still begging him to ask why the elf had been in his dream that morning. Why had the dream been so vivid? Why hadn't it faded from his mind yet, like most dreams? John denied both parts and walked over to his chair, sitting down to watch the three prisoners as he was supposed to, keeping his expression serious.

Soon, Samantha had calmed down enough to go back to reading. 'Shadow' stopped his growling and pacing. Nuada stayed exactly where he had been, standing in the center of his cell, staring at John like he was a mystery to be solved. John watched all of his charges, wondering if he had just lost all levity in his job and projecting the most stoic appearance he could manage. His friends might be having a good time with the elves, but he certainly wasn't. 

\--------------------------------

Three Days Later:

He was convinced that this was Nuada's doing. John had just woken up from yet another vivid dream, the fourth this week featuring Nuada. Every night, he did something fun with the elf prince. First was just searching for him in the garden, then they played hide and seek in the woods. Two nights ago, John had dreamt that he and Nuada were dancing at a large ball, in a room full of other dancing couples, and last night.... Well, John hadn't had such a steamy dream since he was a teenager full of hormones. The dream hadn't gotten very far, but it was far enough for John to feel tempted. 

_That_ was what cemented his certainty that the prince was causing these dreams. He had never had dreams in such vivid detail before and they only seemed to be swaying him towards Nuada. It had to be a trick.

When John got to his cell block later that morning, still steaming with anger, he marched over to Nuada's cell; staying out of reach as he looked in a him. The elf was shirtless, sitting in the center of his cell with his legs crossed, and appeared to be meditating. John didn't wait to be acknowledged before speaking. 

"I'm not going to let you out just because you make me dream about what a nice guy you are, so whatever you're doing, you can cut it out now." He said crossly. 

Nuada's eyes opened slowly and his brow arched up. "You are dreaming about me, human?" He asked, amusement thick in his tone. John glared at him. 

"Don't pull that BS with me. My dreams are _never_ this vivid. I know you're behind it." He could see the mirth in the prince's eyes and it ticked him off to no end. 

"The ability to manipulate dreams is not among my arsenal, human. Perhaps your mind has other reasons to conjure me in your sleep." The elf teased, in a way that John told himself was definitely not hot or any of the other things that his deviant mind chose to label it.

"I don't believe you." The agent huffed and turned away, walking back over to his seat. No matter what Nuada said, John was convinced that he was the source of these strange dreams. 

 

An idea occurred to him. If anyone knew whether or not Nuada could manipulate his dreams, it would be Queen Nuala. If he could get Abe to ask her, then he wouldn't have to deal with Nuada teasing and toying with him. John put that on his to-do list, finally feeling like he was getting his balance back. 

Then he looked at the shirtless Nuada, who had taken to doing push-ups, and that feeling immediately left him again. 

\-------------------------------------

After his shift in Cellblock D, John went back to his room and logged in to his email. Sometimes Abe or Liz was on the computer about this time of day and they could use the incredibly slow instant messenger. It was the closest he came to having conversations with his friends now that he was on the edge of the world and he cherished it. His heart rate kicked up a little when he saw the icon beside Abe's name was green. He would get the chance to ask his questions about Nuada now! Happily, he began to type out his message. 

_Hi Abe! How are you today?_

The chat bubble in the bottom corner popped up after a minute. John prepared to wait a few minutes for the message to actually reach him. Abe was an amazingly fast typer, which helped a little to make up for the slow internet connection. John supposed he should be happy that they had a connection at all; it was expensive to mess with satellite connections the way they did. 

_Hello John. I am doing well. Nuala sends her regards. How are you?_ The reply read. John found himself smiling irrepressibly at the computer screen.

_I'm okay. Things are a little tense in my cell block these days; since Nuada arrived. I swear he's messing with my head, but I can't prove it or do anything about it._ It felt good to voice his frustrations, even though it was to someone in a completely different part of the world, who couldn't really help him. Except Abe might be able to help him. And he certainly needed it these days. John had been growing more and more anxious with every dream of Nuada he had. Part of him was even starting to question his sanity. 

_Nuada is a master tactician. He may be trying to get under your skin in hope that it will aid his escape._ Abe answered. John was a little disappointed that his friend didn't mention anything beyond the normal, but then, perhaps that was his fault in making things sound to mundane. He decided he should come right out and ask what was bothering him. 

_Can Nuada manipulate dreams? I had a dream about him before I'd even met him and then more every night since he got here. Like, dreams where he's nice to me and just nice in general. I think he's trying to make me think he's a good guy that doesn't deserve to be in a cell._

The chat bubble didn't appear for an extra long while this time. He wondered if the internet connection had given out, or if maybe he had said something wrong. Finally the little gray bubble appeared and John breathed a sigh of relief. 

_Nuala would like to know about the content of your dreams._

John blushed. The first dream that came to mind was obviously inappropriate to talk about to someone that he had never met, even if it was through the filter of his friend. He shook his head to banish the embarrassment and started typing out about the other dreams. Part of him noticed that there was a theme of him searching for Nuada in the first two dreams, and a theme of doing something together with Nuada in the last two, but it probably wasn't important. 

_Nuala asks if you have ever heard the name Aengaba._

John frowned. The name tweaked at a corner of his consciousness, but he didn't know why. _It sounds really familiar. I guess I must have heard it somewhere. I just don't remember where._ He typed.

_Nuala may have an answer to why you are having these dreams. However, it is not Nuada's doing directly. It may have been caused by his presence, but he is not trying to create the dreams. He does not have that ability. Nuala says that she has something to send you that may clear up this misunderstanding._

_What is it?_

_It is best if you see for yourself._

\-----------------------------------------

Two days later, John was surprised by an unexpected guest in his cell block. BPRD Director Tom Manning came through the door with a small army following him. John stood up from his chair, unsure if he was supposed to salute or something. Surely he hadn't fallen _that_ low on the totem pole. Instead, he stood at attention, looking at the man he hadn't seen in half a year. 

Manning's eyes seemed to lighten slightly when he saw John, his expression losing some of its severity. "Agent Myers. It's been a while." He said, his voice still holding all of its superiority, making him sound exactly like the bureaucrat he was.

"Six months, three weeks, and a handful of days, sir." He replied, trying to be amiable. The director's eyebrow raised. 

"I take it you don't like it down here very much, hmm?"

John felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. "Is it that obvious, sir?" He might have had a different response a week ago, but Nuada had done a lot to sour his mood. As if the threat of 'Shadow' taking a nibble out of his arm wasn't enough, he had been given the responsibility of watching the smug, self-righteous Nuada. At least Sam was still nice to talk to. She was the only prisoner he might have thought didn't belong there, and she would be the first one to correct him on that.

Manning chuckled and walked up to Sam's bars, staying well behind the yellow line painted on the floor that showed how far back he ought to be. The woman looked between him and John, suddenly nervous. The agent tensed. He didn't like how this was looking, even though he was sure Manning wouldn't do anything to hurt Samantha. There would be no reason to...right? Except Manning was a really prejudiced jerk sometimes.

"What is this one?" Manning asked. John didn't know if he was the one being asked, but he was quick to answer anyways. 

"Samantha Queen. She's a werewolf, but her inner wolf only comes out if she sees the moon." He walked up to stand beside Manning, flashing Sam his most encouraging smile. The director huffed. 

"Not very useful, then."

"Excuse me, sir?" John asked, turning to look at the man with a frown overtaking his face. Manning looked down his nose at the smaller man. 

"I don't know if you've heard, Agent Myers, but the freaks up and quit the BPRD. And a lot of agents followed their lead. Without the team powerhouses, many of our agents felt like the risks of working for the BPRD were too high. We need agents. Badly enough that we're looking to recruit some of these...prisoners." Manning said the last word as disdainfully as possibly, and it made John's skin crawl.

"Abe has told me about the team's choice to leave. I didn't know so many agents would go as well." He looked over at Sam, seeing fear creeping into the woman's yellow eyes. He tried to make a discreet, calming motion to her with his hand. "If you're looking for recruits, though, this is the wrong cell block." John raised his eyes back up to Manning's, seeing the man look at him curiously. There were definitely gears turning in the director's head, and John wasn't sure if that was a good thing. "Sam, here, doesn't want to hurt anyone. She turned herself in."

"And what about the next prisoner." Manning asked, walking forwards and forcing John to back up with every step.

"'Shadow' isn't exactly the 'play well with others' type. He's more likely to eat you the minute you let him out." John explained quickly.

For the first time in John's experience, the shadows covering the second cell seemed to retreat into the being in the middle. The inky black coating left the walls of the cell clean and as gray as they had been before 'Shadow' came to inhabit them. After the shadows all dissipated, there was only 'Shadow' in his wolf form. He sat docilely, his black tongue lolling out. John knew that the happy puppy look that 'Shadow' was projecting was a facade covering up a dangerous creature.

Manning, however, was fooled by the outward appearance. He started to lean out over the yellow line to get a better look at the black wolf creature. John quickly seized the director's arm and jerked him back. Just in time, it would seem, as 'Shadow' lunged for the bars. He impacted the blessed metal and exploded into black mist. In under a minute, the mist coalesced back into the wolf form. A dark laugh rang out of the cell, seeming to emanate from every corner of the little room, then the darkness seeped out of its host to cover the cell around him once more.

"Like I said..." John let go of the balding man's arm, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at him. 

"I see." Manning covered his nervous swallow by raising his head in faux confidence and started to walk around John to the last cell. His curious eyes turned hard and flinty when he saw the elf. John walked up to his side again, mindful not to impede the access of the small army of soldiers at the entrance to their leader as he put himself on the other side of the man. 

"I'm sure you remember Nuada."

"How could I forget? The source of all my current problems." Manning responded sharply. "Not so high and mighty now, though, are you, elf?" His voice was rife with malice and distaste. He said the word elf like it was a derogatory term, which irritated John more than it used to...though the director's casual prejudice had always irritated him. 

"Like I said, sir, this is the wrong cell block to look for new recruits." John waved a hand at all of the cells. "With the exception of Miss Queen, they're more likely to attack you than help you, and as I said, Samantha wants to be here where she can't hurt anyone."

"You do not speak for me, Myers." Nuada's silvery words slid out of his cell before Manning could reply. John looked over at him, eyes widening. Not just at the idea that Nuada might want to work for the BPRD; a shocking revelation in its own right. No, John was more alarmed that the elf had spoken his name. That hadn't happened before, despite Nuada most definitely learning his name on his first day in that cell. 

"You want to come work for us, elf? Protecting humanity? You almost killed us all off, why should we believe you?" Manning sneered at him. John curled his hands into fists at the way the man said 'elf' again, but waited silently for Nuada's answer. He was curious as to why the prince would make such a claim too.

"I do not want to work for you. But you can grant me access to something I want, as well as minutely more freedom." Nuada stalked closer to the bars, his amber eyes fixed on John instead of Manning. "I will come assist your futile attempts to prolong your own pathetic existence, so long as Myers is the agent you assign to watch after me." 

John started at the prince's revelation. His eyes widened. Nuada wanted him for a handler? Why? What was he up to? Unable to contain his confusion, his mouth opened before Manning could get another word in. "Why? What do you want with _me_?" 

Nuada's mouth split into a dark smile. "Perhaps there are things I would like to do with you, Agent Myers. Hide ad seek, maybe? Or perhaps we could try ballroom dancing?" 

John's heart dropped into a pit of ice in his stomach. How? HOW? Nuala had dispelled the theory that Nuada was implanting these dreams in his head purposely. So how did he know their content?!

Manning cast a confused look at John. "Agent Myers?"

The brunette quickly wiped all expression from his face. He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at the still smirking Nuada. "I will take any reassignment you give me, sir, but I can't guarantee that I can keep Nuada in line. He could easily overpower me. This could very well be an attempt to escape. And I'm certain that he wouldn't be easy to recapture."

Manning's expression turned thoughtful. "We may have a solution to keep him from getting very far if he does run. If you're willing to be his handler..."

John straightened. "Of course, sir."

"Good." The director motioned one of his soldiers towards the cell. "Get us access to this prisoner and prep the collar." He turned back to John. "Get someone to replace you here and then go pack. Meet us in the east hangar. Congratulations, Agent Myers. You're returning to Newark."

\----------------------------------

John cast a sidelong glance at Nuada as he buckled himself into his seat on the BPRD cargo plane. Nuada was sitting a few seats away from him. Everyone was giving the two of them a wide berth, perhaps partly to do with the absolutely murderous expression on Nuada's face. The prince had been sedated for transport and he was obviously not happy about it. Among other things.

Fastened around Nuada's neck was an experimental new collar. From John's understanding, it was a combination of a tracking device and a shock collar. One of Manning's prisoner transport experts had briefed him on the capabilities while they fastened a waterproof gauntlet around John's arm. The gauntlet controlled the collar. John could deliver shocks to hurt Nuada if he disobeyed. If Nuada ran, they could deliver a shock high enough to knock him out. Then, with the GPS in the collar, they could track him. The gauntlet was also programmed to register his own injuries as escape attempts, and Nuada would be shocked if he allowed John to be hurt or killed.

John didn't like it. For one thing, this was inhumane. Yes, Nuada wasn't human and yes they were just trying to keep him from hurting anyone, but a _shock collar_? Another possible problem was Nuala. What would happen to her if Nuada got hit with an electric shock? John couldn't do that to her. He couldn't do that to Abe, who would be wholly freaked out if something hurt his beloved. And those weren't the only problems. What if John was hurt by something while they were out fighting? Nuada would get shocked, and wouldn't that prevent him from being helpful if the thing hurting John moved on to killing?

John silently promised himself that he wouldn't use the shock collar unless absolutely necessary, and he was going to get them to take out the shock-if-handler-is-hurt part of the program. He would only use the collar to keep Nuada from killing someone he shouldn't. Besides, Nuada said that he would play nice, so long as John was his handler. Whatever nefarious ideas he had planned for John, it probably wasn't deadly...probably... So there shouldn't be any need to use the collar. 

BZZZZZZT!

Nuada's form suddenly spasmed, arching tight against the belts holding him in his seat. His mouth opened at the pain, but no sound came from between his lips, strangled into silence in his electrocuted throat. John's eyes went wide. He looked around, searching for the source of the elf's discomfort as Nuada's body sagged back against the seat once more. 

His eyes latched onto the transport expert that had debriefed him on the collar. He was holding another gauntlet like Johns and was motioning nonchalantly in Nuada's direction as he talked to another agent. His expression was excited; unrepentant and it made red wash over John's vision. He jerked out of his seat belts and stalked over to the technician. The man gaped at him as John jerked the gauntlet out of his hands, scanning his fingerprint on the screen as he switched the piece of tech off. 

"Hey, what the hell, man?" The transport expert asked, clearly not understanding what he had done wrong. John resisted the urge to smash the spare gauntlet in his hand against the side of a heavy crate a few paces away. 

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?! The collar is only to punish him if he does something wrong!" John snapped angrily. The man raised an eyebrow at him, then smirked. 

"Yeah, well, he looked at me funny."

"Well then grow a pair! You don't electrocute another person for a look!" John tossed the spare gauntlet onto one of the cargo plane seats, away from the both of them. His hands curled into fists, now that they were empty, and he stared down the other man vehemently.

"He's not a person, Myers. He's a freak." 

John didn't remember throwing the punch. He only remembered the aftermath; several other agents holding his arms, getting in-between the two of them. Someone pushed him back over to the other side of the plane, putting him in the seat beside Nuada with a shove. He heard people saying his name, talking down to the transport technician. Someone mentioned that John had always sided with the more supernatural agents and it was a wrong move to say the word 'freak' to him. John had never reacted this poorly to it before, but they apparently weren't surprised that it had come to this.

Nuada's head turned to him slowly, dull golden eyes watching him. John knew the elf wasn't so drugged that he couldn't comprehend what had just happened. He knew that he was getting a confused observation now. He decided to cut any questions off before they came. 

"I did that because of Nuala, okay. Abe's my friend and he loves her, so I don't want her getting hurt because some guy decides to be an asshole to you." He stated defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. 

A smile touched Nuada's dark lips. "She would not feel the brunt of the electricity as I do...only its harm to my body. It would probably only cause a headache or a stomach ache...but I thank you on her behalf." He murmured quietly, his smile morphing into a smirk. 

Surprised, John's eyes widened. That surprise faded when he realized that he was being mocked and he scowled at the prince. "Oh, just shut up." He griped. 

\------------------------------------------

Walking into the BPRD was like coming home. The first things John saw after the elevator dumped them out in the below ground portion of the building were the ornate golden doors to the library. It took all of his self control not to divert from the group, and head through those beautiful doors to the comfortable room behind them. Instead, he stayed with the small assembly, five agents and Nuada, as they made their way down the gunmetal gray corridors to the left.

Part of him was sure that Nuada noticed his excitement, because he swore that he saw the prince roll his eyes at one point. They passed an assortment of offices, group meeting rooms, and laboratories as they made their way around the building to Manning's preferred conference area. John's eyes drank in the familiarity. Part of him wanted to share the excitement, causing him to look up a few times into Nuada's bored gaze. After receiving an arched brow in response, John realized his mistake. Not only were he and Nuada not friends, but they were not even on friendly terms. Perhaps he should keep that at the forefront of his mind.

They came to conference room 3-A, beside the arsenal and across from the gym. Perhaps there was something to be said about Manning's insistence on holding meetings next to weapons and agents that were already primed for action, but no one was going to mention it. Everyone took up a seat around the large oak table, except Nuada, who of course chose to stand in the corner of the room, being slightly creepy in John's opinion. 

Manning stepped into the room moments later, casting a suspicious look at Nuada. John turned slightly in his swivel chair to see how the elf prince reacted, but his face was rather impassive. He turned back to the director as several maroon folders were being handed out by one of Manning's assistants. 

"We've been getting reports of something in Philly leaving carcasses of birds and other small animals lying around. It's only happening in grassy areas, mostly in the park listed in your folders. Now, normally this wouldn't fall under our jurisdiction, but in the last week, we've had two human bodies found in the same park. They're pretty marked up, the same way the animal bodies have been. Our department liaison with the local PD got the case handed over to us. Now, it could be a regular serial killer." Manning flipped to a page in one of the folders that his assistant handed him. "If we don't find anything, then we hand it back to the police, but better safe than sorry."

"Those wounds were not caused by human hands." Nuada's voice came from directly behind John, startling the agent badly enough that he had to stop himself from elbowing the elf in the gut. John looked up at his charge with an annoyed glare. Nuada smirked at him in return, then leaned down to tap the picture that lay in John's open folder. "This is made by a Vasitris Maricoxi. They are evil creatures, with the look of small, malformed apes."

"Well if you know what it is, you shouldn't have any trouble killing it." Manning replied snidely. John frowned, looking up at Nuada. 

"Are you going to be okay fighting them?" He asked. The elf prince gave him a haughty sneer. 

"Of course."

\----------------------------------------

"Of course, he says! It'll be easy, he says! Could you have underestimated the situation a little more? I don't think we've seen a _twelve_ foot one yet!" John breathed exasperatedly, following in Nuada's footsteps as they trudged through the muddy, forested darkness. 

"Twelve foot Maricoxi are called Curinqueans, and those are typically harmless." Nuada replied smugly. He was wiping the point of his silver lance with a black cloth as they walked, his light skin and hair providing John a guide in the pitch black. John rolled his eyes, focusing on his feet to try and walk half as quietly as Nuada.

Upon their arrival at the night washed park, the prince had immediately tilted his head up and literally _sniffed_ out their quarry. He led John through the surprisingly large woods to a small clearing. That was when things went wrong. Nuada announced that they were surrounded, just as dozens of pairs of gleaming gray eyes appeared in the trees above them. John's hand fell to his hip, settling over his gun, only to have Nuada's hand appear on top of his. The cool touch stayed his hand as the elf prince calmly informed him that firing a shot from the gun would likely cause the creatures to flee. Afraid of loud noises, he said. Then the Vasitris Maricoxi began their assault, becoming all teeth and chittering noise. Each one seemed to get bigger and bigger, until they faced several that were taller than the elf prince himself. Nuada unconcernedly dispatched them as they jumped out, protecting John with his wickedly sharp spear. Just when John thought that it was over, he became aware of crashing through the brush to their left. Then Nuada was dragging him off into the woods after the fleeing creature.

"Keep up, Agent Myers." Nuada called over his shoulder, his tone teasing and light. If John didn't know any better, he would swear that the elf was having fun. 

"Yeah, like that's possible!" The agent panted. His voice escaped him in a soft 'oomf' as he ran into the prince's solid back. "What-?"

"Shh." Nuada hushed him, one hand reaching behind him to settle on John's hip. The agent's cheeks heated, but it seemed that the elf was too preoccupied to tease him for once. His golden eyes flitted over the trees. John tried to still his heavy breathing, to make it easier for Nuada to hear whatever was happening among the leaves.

There was an abrupt swish and a squidge. It took John a moment to realized that Nuada had thrown his spear, in its smaller, but still large dagger form. The last Maricoxi tumbled out of the canopy in a heavy thud. John watched as the elf prince calmly walked over to the corpse and removed his lance. 

Nuada turned back to look at John. His eyes bored into the agent, who swallowed around a sudden ball of nervous tension in his throat. John hadn't had much time to think about his dreams of Nuada since his transfer back to the BPRD Newark team, but images from those strange nightly displays came rushing back to him under the elf's heavy stare. The memory of that gaze, sliding across his skin like a hot wind, made him hold in a shiver. John didn't know what the dreams were about, but they had definitely gotten to him. 

He swallowed hard, turing away from the prince's stare and the obviously growing curiosity on his face. He raised a hand to his headset, gathering his wits about him before he talked. "Agent Myers checking in. We got the last one. Have coordinates printed out for the cleanup team. We'll head back to the other site needing cleanup to provide the other GPS location."

"Roger that, Agent Myers. Let us know when you've reached the coordinates." A voice answered in his ear piece. John turned back to look at Nuada. 

"Can you get us back to where we started?" He asked. The prince raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say 'Are you kidding?' and started walking in the direction they had come from. John decided to take that as a 'yes'. 

\------------------------------------

A month passed like that. John followed Nuada into the field. They took care of whatever supernatural problem was occurring, sometimes, pleasantly, in a non-violent way. Then they would get the cleanup teams involved and go home. John would finish up with reports in the library; Nuada following along after him in a way that John only found suspicious the first few times it happened. Then the agent would go to bed and have even more strange dreams about the elf. Repeat, et cetera. 

The agent had finally been able to Skype with his friends in the elven city, able to look at his friends while he talked for the first time in seven months. Most of the time, when he spoke to Abe or Liz, he would also ask Nuada if he wanted to speak to his sister. The prince usually shook his head and quickly buried himself in some book that he had picked up. Nuala would smile at the camera if she was in its range, looking fragile and disappointing, but she never pressed the issue.

John had also been contacted by the BPRD postal services. Apparently they had been notified of his transfer before a package had been shipped to Antarctica for him. They told him that the package had been rerouted to the Newark office and they were notifying him just in case they had made a mistake. It was policy to double check with packages to Antarctica because no one wanted to make the agents down there wait even longer than they already had to for mail. Once John confirmed that he had, indeed, been transferred back to the states, they agreed to send out the package. 

He got it within the week, coming to the library to find the brown wrapped box on his usual desk. John looked at the box, recognizing the return address as somewhere near the location he had been told housed the troll market. 

His eyes flicked up instinctively as Nuada walked into the room. He didn't know how the elf did it, but he always seemed to arrive in the library moments after John, no matter where he was in the building when the agent arrived. John flashed a small smile at the prince before he went back to the box. 

It was thin, but relatively long. As he unwrapped the brown paper, he found that the box was actually wooden. It was lighter than he expected, though still rather heavy, and it was beautiful. It was made of several different types of woof, each piece laid in place on the top to create a mural of a barren tree. There was no sound of movement inside the box when he lifted it, so he wouldn't be doing the old Christmas gift shake test. John finally opened it, not hearing a single creak from the hinges, to reveal the interior. 

Sitting inside, on a plush bed of red velvet, was the most beautiful weapon he had ever seen, aside from Nuada's lance. It was a sword, albeit a short one. It was a shimmering silver, with the slightest blue tint. The handle was almost a foot long, the blade just twice that. It was three inches thick at its widest point, engraved with curling sigils and script. The pommel was a simple loop of metal with a leather strap through the center.

John took it from the box and it instantly felt right in his hand. He unconsciously twirled the weapon in his hand, then laid the blade out flat over his empty palm. Images flashed in his head, coaxing his eyes closed in an attempt to make them linger. Battle. The clash of weapons; fine elven metal against crude human steel. Then less serious situations. Training. Testing his skills and sparring against a graceful partner. Nuada. 

His eyes snapped open. He felt the golden gaze upon him before he saw it clearly. 

Nuada stood at the other side of the desk, his intense stare riveted on John. The agent reluctantly slipped the small sword back into its box, closing the ornate lid carefully. His eyes didn't leave Nuada's, locked there by an unknown force.

"Aengaba." Nuada said softly. John's heartstrings pulled taut. The sound of his name, so gently, from those lips. Then he remembered. That wasn't his name. His name was John. He had no idea who Aengaba was.

"Wh-what?" He managed to croak. The prince's eyes narrowed.

"Nuala is right about you." He hissed, his expression turning hard.

"What are you talking about?" John asked, feeling a chill run down his spine. Nuada scoffed and turned away from him. 

"Come to me when you remember, then." He stalked away, leaving John to feel like they had been having a conversation across purposes. The agent flinched when the library doors closed behind Nuada's retreating form. John stared at the doors, completely lost. 

\----------------------------------

"How are you, John?" Liz smiled at her computer screen, her eyes not quite looking at him because they were fixed on his image and not on the laptop camera. John smiled at her tiredly. The previous night had been filled with strange dreams. For the first time in ages Nuada wasn't in them. Instead, John had seen very human faces. Angry ones. He had felt pain and tasted something metallic. It was troubling him, though he had no intention of sharing that with Liz. 

"I'm still kicking." He joked. "How about you?"

Liz's eyes gleamed mischievously. "I'm fine, aside from getting fat." She made a face at him, thought the smile remained. John chuckled. 

"There's a big difference between pregnant and fat, Liz." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. 

"Yeah, well it doesn't feel like there is." She sighed, putting her chin in her hand. "And Hellboy is no help. He keeps insisting on doing things for me, even though I'm perfectly capable."

"Aww. He's probably just trying to help. I know I'd be going pretty crazy if I were going to be a father." John reached around the computer to grab his soda bottle and took a drink to ease the encroaching dryness of his mouth. 

"I know! I just....I have _got_ to do some stuff for myself. Sitting still so much only works for so long with me. I actually miss work, and that's really weird." Liz widened her eyes at him to convey her point. 

John laughed. "Yeah, I get it. I'd go crazy without something to do." He grinned at her and she grinned back. It was likely she remembered the times John had been laid up in the infirmary and was similarly frustrated by the situation. "Oh! Did you take your camera with you? You should take some pictures. Or...will they not let you? I know the city is supposed to be kind of secret."

Liz looked at him thoughtfully. "I hadn't asked yet, but it's not a bad idea. I'll ask Nuala if I can take some pictures. It's not like I'd show them to anyone that isn't already here; except you of course. But Nuala likes you, so I doubt it would be a problem." 

John felt a little bubble of happiness at the idea of Nuala liking him. They hadn't really talked all that much; most of their exchanges going through Abe, but he wanted to be liked. "I'd love to see it. Everything the elves make seems to be beautiful, I imagine the city would be too."

"Thank you, John." A soft voice came from off camera. Liz looked up and to her left, smiling at what had to be Nuala. She reached out and turned the laptop to show the Queen in the frame.

"Hello, your majesty." He greeted. Her lips quirked up into a smile that was surprisingly close to Nuada's. 

"Hello, John. I hope you are well." She replied, her voice lilting softly. John glanced up and around the library, strangely vacant as Nuada had not come in after their conversation the previous day. He turned his attention back to the Queen. 

"I am, thank you." He wanted to ask her about the short sword she had mailed him, but he was afraid to be rude to Liz. She quickly absolved this worry by asking her next question. 

"Did you receive the package Abe sent?" She traded a quick glance with Liz. It seemed that both women knew something that John didn't. 

"Yes, I got it yesterday." He glanced up at the box resting on the table to his right. "Actually, I was hoping to ask you about that."

Nuala's smile was mysterious as she looked at him now. "Of course. What troubles you?"

"Um," John swallowed, thinking about the flashes he had seen when he held the sword. About how right it had felt in his hand. "Why does it feel like I should recognize it? I mean, I know I've never see it before, but I also feel like I've used it; fought with it."

Nuala folded her hands in front of her. "John, do you know why the elves are considered the 'eternal' race?" John shook his head. He'd always assumed the moniker had something to do with the elves' exceptionally long lives, but he had no real knowledge on the subject. It wasn't like Nuada was a fountain of information. "It is because the elven spirit never really dies. Even if the body is destroyed, an elf's soul will someday be reincarnated in another body. Some elves never remember their previous forms, but some do." 

John thought he could see where she was going with this, except there was still one problem. "But...I'm not an elf."

Nuala's expression wasn't quite condescending, but she certainly was amused by his obliviousness. "You do not have to be. It has happened several times in the past. Gnomes, fae, ogres, even demons have remembered their pasts as an elf. And there are elves that remember their time as other races. Of course, you are the first _human_ case I have heard of." Her smile softened again. "But my brother can sense it in you. Once upon a time, you were one of us, John Myers."

John stared, wide eyed, at the screen. "What? But...how do you know he...?"

"Nuada and I still sense each other's thoughts from time to time. I can tell that he sees the elf in you. And that he remembers who you were."

"Aengaba." John supplied, finally catching on. Nuala nodded gracefully. "So all those dreams...they're not just dreams, are they?" Surprisingly, that part seemed the least weird. It made sense. They were so vivid because they weren't really dreams.

"No, they are not. You are recalling Aengaba's memories." Nuala shared another look with Liz, and John was starting to get the impression that they pitied him for his current situation. 

"So who exactly was Aengaba?"

There was a long pause. Nuala pursed her lips together tightly, casting a lingering glance down at her hands. "Perhaps you should remember this yourself." She answered quietly. 

"But-" 

The laptop swiveled back around to fully face Liz. "You heard the lady, Myers." John was about to protest again when the red alert sounded through the library. The shrill claxton made him wince and Liz raised a brow at him. "Sounds like you have more pressing problems."

He grimaced as he rose to his feet. "Right. Sorry. I'll talk to you later Liz."

"Come back safe, John."

\-------------------------------------

Nuada could be a real prick sometimes. John had this uncharitable thought as they slogged through the sewers after several city adapted kappa. The Japanese yokai were tricky little monsters and they had been eating the unlucky homeless people of Manhattan. And Nuada had left him alone twenty minutes ago in the kappa infested sewers. Ten minutes ago, he'd had to deal with one of the little beasts. Luckily for Nuada, they had turned off the shock-when-handler-is-injured function on his collar, because John was sporting a gash from wrist to elbow. It stung like a bitch and he breathed hard through his nose as he tried to ignore it.

He was ready to curse Nuada's name when two more kappa jumped out in front of and behind him. Both looked ready to cause serious damage; their teeth and claw gleaming when the dim light of John's flashlight found them. The agent turned, putting his back to the wall of the sewer so that he could see both enemies. Bubbling laughter echoed around him, making the knife's edge of tension even more sharp as it slid down John's spine. 

The kappa lunged together, one aiming high and the other low. John ducked and ran beneath the one that lunged high, spinning on his heel to pop off two shots. One of the little, green monsters fell with a surprised squeal. The other fixed its eyes on John, glaring with all its might. The injured kappa didn't so much as twitch and John was fairly certain that he had struck the creature's head, judging by the lime green ooze that was leaking out around its skull into the sewer water.

The agent prepared to fire off another shot. His target didn't move, a clue that he didn't get until it was too late. The grin that crept over the yokai's face gave it away, and John suddenly felt eyes on the back of his neck. He turned, seeing the flash of claws an instant before they cut into the side of his face. The kappa slammed John's head into the wall. Hard. 

Dizzy, his face burning from the claw marks, the agent tried to keep his gun up. His aim wavered wildly and the third kappa grabbed to fistfuls of his hair. It tugged the brown strands tightly, jerking his head into the wall again. Twice more the creature bashed John's head into the wall with its unnatural strength. The agent's vision grayed out. Consciousness wasn't far behind.

All of the sudden, it stopped. The clawed hands released John's head. The creature's clammy breath on his face disappeared. There was a swish of movement and there were very different hands on his face. The touch was cool and gentle; familiar hands examining him.

"Nuada...?" John breathed, unable to get his eyes open. 

"I was destroying the central hive. I did not think there would be any this far away from the hive. I should not have left you alone, but I thought you would be safer." The elf's voice explained softly. John grimaced, feeling the pain echoing out from his arm and his head. "I will get you back to the truck." Arms encircled John, pulling him up out of the muck. One arm supported his back while the other brought up his knees. The agent had the fleeting thought that there were more dignified ways to be carried, before another wave of dizziness crashed over him. He felt his consciousness fading, pulling out of his reach every time he tried to recapture it. "Stay awake, Agent Myers." Nuada commanded.

John wished he could obey. 

\------------------------------------------

"Aengaba." His eyes opened to see Nuada standing above him. He felt his lips twitching up in a smile as the elf offered him a hand up, massive strength making John feel weightless as he was lifted. He dusted leaves from his back, stepping away from the tree he had been napping against. 

"Ready to move on?" John asked him. Nuada turned his head towards the wind as it blew down the forest path. His face contorted in a frown. Something in John's mind told him that the elf was puzzling over several ideas in his head.

"I do not think this trip is worth our time." The elf said at last. His eyes found John's face once more. A smile crept onto his lips, banishing the frown, and he crowded in close to the agent's body, backing him up into the tree. John's heart began to pound in his chest and in his head. The prince's smirk came to press into his throat, peppering kisses and nips over his skin. "This seems a much better pursuit." Nuada murmured into his jaw. Every tiny bite was soothed with the hypnotic swipe of the tongue and John almost allowed himself to be distracted. 

"Airgetlam....our task is important...we can't just-" He gasped as the prince's hand found his ass and lifted him from the ground. The agent braced himself against the solid line of the tree behind him and brought a hand up to cling tightly to Nuada's shoulder. As convincing arguments went, this one was rather persuasive. "Airgetlam..." John breathed. "Please....the peace talks must come first!" He finally managed to force the words out. 

The prince's scowl as he drew back would have intimidated many elves, but John wasn't to be dissuaded. He awkwardly adjusted his pants, knowing full well that his erection was pressing against them in the front. Nuada's gaze raked down him heatedly, promising all sorts of wicked ideas, before he turned to face the path again. 

"As you wish." He snarked, raising his chin. "Just know that you are not going anywhere after we get back to Bethmoora. I shall tie you to my bed if I must." The prince sent a piercing glance over his shoulder. John nodded, his mouth too dry to consider speaking. The thought of being bound to Nuada's bed was _more_ than welcome. 

\---------------------------------------

The dream lingered on John's mind as he came back to full wakefullness. The line between Aengaba and John Myers became appealingly thin, showing him a combination of life experiences that he truly wanted to retain. Then, as consciousness sharpened the reality of his present, the memories of Aengaba dulled and hid behind the memories of John Myers. Instead of the agent and the elf, he was just the agent with the elf's memories hovering teasingly close to the surface, but never breaking it. 

John slowly realized that he was in the infirmary. His section was curtained off, but he wasn't in a private room. That told him that his injuries weren't too bad, at least. He hazily recollected that he'd gotten a long cut on his arm. Except that didn't explain why he had been unconcious. Then he remembered the kappa trying to bash his brains out against the sewer walls. _That_ might be why he'd been out. 

The light blue curtain around John's bed drew back. Nuada stepped past it, closing it behind him and moved to take up the chair set off to John's left. His expression gave away nothing, but his eyes were hawklike as they stared down the agent on the bed. 

John felt like he ought to say something. 'Thank you', maybe, or 'where were you?' When he opened his mouth, all that came out was, "Airgetlam."

Nuada's head shot up, shock gleaming in his golden eyes. Behind the shock, though, there was something hopeful. John felt like a jerk, because he was certain that he was going to be a dissapointment in very short order. "Aengaba. You remember?!" 

John tried not to grimace as he replied, "Just bits and pieces in dreams. It's not...all there." He felt his stomach twist in knots at the way Nuada's face fell. Yep, definitely a dissapointment then. "I'm sorry."

The prince drew himself up, raising his chin. "It is what it is." He reached forward, taking John's hand gently. The agent swallowed, feeling his face heat even as he enjoyed the cool touch. They might have been together in John's past life, but they weren't now, so this was a strange incontinuity that his brain had trouble reconciling. 

"You know...whatever I used to be, I'm still a human now." He looked pointedly at their joined hands. 

"I know that." Nuada answered, not removing his soft grip.

"So you also know that getting these memories won't change that. I will still be John Myers. Born a human, raised a human. I'm not ever going to be the Aengaba that you lost; not with all of these other experiences inside my head." John said, even as he wondered where this revelation had come from. Perhaps, burried deep, he was already priming himself for rejection, before the Aengaba memories cemented in him this desire for Nuada that he already felt growing. His human side was part of him, and with the elf prince's hatred of humans, how could this _not_ end badly?

Nuada rose to his feet, and for a moment John thought he was going to walk away. Instead, the prince moved to sit on the edge of the hospital bed, with his hand still holding John's tightly. His golden eyes pierced the agent deep, pinning him to the pillows behind him. "What makes you think that John Myers is so different from my Aengaba? And what makes you think I would want only one half of who you are?"

John swallowed, his eyes falling away from the intense stare. "I'm human...you hate humans..."

"I do not hate you, John Myers." Nuada squeezed his hand, raising pale fingers to John's chin to make him lift his head again. "Even before Aengaba's memories started to return to you, there was little difference between you. Your temperment, your mannerisms; even your voice. It's all the same. Even the look in your eyes when you are frustrated with me is the same. You have always been the Aengaba I remember. It thrives in the little details of you."

The agent blinked away a sudden stinging behind his eyes. His heart was full to bursting at Nuada's reassuring words. "And you don't mind my being human? You like John Myers and not just the chance to be with Aengaba again?"

The elf had th audacity to smile at his wavering question. His free hand came up to caress the agent's cheek almost tenderly. "John Myers, you are the next progression of my Aengaba, and I want who you have become just as much as I wanted who you were." Nuada's thumb traced his cheekbone and he chuckled quietly. "Your humanity is of little consequence. I like _who_ you are, not matter _what_ you are."

John felt himself blushing to the very roots of his hair. "So what happens now?

The prince chuckled. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to John's cheek. "Now, you rest." The agent shivered at the whisper, his eyes falling closed. He wanted to protest. He had just woken up; he didn't want to go back to sleep. He wanted to know what this made them. Were they together now? It certainly seemed like it. But, as John had learned more than once in his dreams, Nuada was persuasive if nothing else. 

The prince shifted him back on the pillows. He tucked blankets around the agent carefully. Then, with a tentative press of lip to the corner of John's head, he was gone. John sighed, knowing with some part of him that the elf would be back, just as soon as he went to sleep.

\--------------------------------

It was a simple misunderstanding, John thought as he clung to consciousness in Nuada's arms. He was dreaming again, and it was only that knowledge that kept him from being terrified. An iron broadsword had been shoved through him, now sitting to the side of them as his blood poured out on the muddy ground. It was raining on them, slicking Nuada's hair down the sides of his head and pattering around the torn edges of John's exposed wound.

He'd been weaponless, only out for a stroll through the fall forest. Nuada was busy meeting with his father and as fond as King Balor was of Aengaba, he hadn't been invited. So John watched the end of his past life in its painful entirety. 

He stumbled upon a young human girl in the woods, who cried for her mother with every stumbling step. He had offered to help her back to the nearest village, where her mother would probably be. 

Except, when he'd gotten there, the humans misunderstood. The called him abductor, tearing the child away from him. No matter how he'd tried to explain, the humans were unwilling to listen. 

The town's most talented warrior challenged him, but, lacking a blade, John had no way to defend himself. Trapped in a ring of humans, with no where to run, he had dodged the swordsman's strikes for as long as he could. Then, from behind, a bystander shoved him. He stumbled into the downward strike of the broadsword and felt a pain he had never felt before as the iron burned inside him.

Everything went very fuzzy around the edges. There was laughing, then screaming. Motion on every side of him. The next thing John knew, Nuada was there. The prince pulled the blade from him, dropping it on the ground. John knew from the silence that all of the villagers were dead, save for the children hidden safely indoors.

It was a misunderstanding, John tried to say, but his lung had been punctured and he could barely do more than wheeze. Nuada's tears mingled with the rain drops as they dripped down on the agent's face. It was the only time John, or even Aengaba, had seen the prince cry. He hated himself for making the elf hurt so much. He hated the humans for being so quick to fear and judge. But, in the end, he hated no one, because there was nothing left. Just a few shuddering breaths and oblivion. 

\------------------------------------

Upon waking, John wanted to curl himself into a ball; safe and protected from the pain. No wonder Nuada hated humans. What they had done to Aengaba was deplorable. John wasn't too sure how he felt about humanity at the moment, and he was human.

About an hour passed before he was able to reel himself back up, reminding himself not to hold all of humanity accountable for the sins of a few scared, angry fools from the dark ages. It still felt so fresh, though, and he flinched when his doctor came to discharge him from the infirmary. The man had looked at him curiously, but said nothing about it as he freed John from the IV drip and gave him a set of sweats to put on. He had the agent sign a standard release form and then smile lightly at him before leaving.

\------------------------------------

John was still in the borrowed sweats when he hunted down Nuada in the library. The elf prince was seated at John's desk, tinkering with some piece of goblin machinery that he may or may not have gotten out of the BPRD item's vault. Without permission. The agent trudged over to the desk and sat down in another chair beside him. Part of him wanted to cuddle up to Nuada for a hug, but the sane part of his brain couldn't decide if they had that kind of relationship yet. It certainly seemed to be leaning towards it, but he just wasn't sure. 

"You look miserable." Nuada pointed out aimlessly, still paying attention to the delicate mechanics he was fiddlin with. John picked up a tiny silver tool that looked like a sharp wrench. 

"I saw how I died." He said, placing his chin on his hand and looking at the tools to avoid looking at Nuada. He felt the elf's eyes on him. 

"I see.............And does that change your opinion of the race you now belong to?"

John put down the sharp wrench and picked up something spirally and entirely foreign. "It... I don't want it to..." He offered reluctantly. "And... well logically, I know humans have done horrible things in the past. Not just to other races, but to each other. We define invisible borders between 'us' and 'them' and allow ourselves to see anyone slightly different as the enemy. It happened in the past and it still happens now." He finally looked up at Nuada, seeing a grim expression on his face. Somehow, it didn't surprise John that he wasn't triumpant or self-riteous about this right now. Something about their new relationship had tempered the prince's original attitude towards humans; especially when that human was John and he was having a small crisis.

"So what is your opinion of humanity, then?" Nuada asked, putting down his tools. John wrapped his arms around himself and tucked his legs back beneath himself on the chair.

"Humans... can be foolish. They can be scared and they can often lash out at what scares them... But they can also be kind. And creative, and funny. And when they all come together to do something good, they can make something beautiful happen. I don't want to see only the bad in humanity. Not when there is so much good." The agent felt tears stinging his eyes. Nuada shifted and then he was there; his arms wrapped tightly around John as he knelt on the floor beside him. The prince's strong arms hauled the agent close, making him feel safe for the first time since he woke up.

"You're so..." Nuada murmured, his head dipping into the curve of John's throat. "I know that you still feel separate from who you once were, but I can tell you now that nothing about you has changed. You are still the same kind, compassionate man I knew." The elf tightened his arms around John and nuzzled him lovingly.

Shyly, at first, the agent's hands came up to grip the shirt at Nuada's sides, pulling him in. His face fell into the crook of the prince's neck and he buried himself there, breathing in the smell of warm autum leaves and clean air. The longer he stayed there, the less he felt the barrier between his memories as John Myers and his memories as Aengaba. He knew that soon there would be no separation at all.

\---------------------------------------------

"There was the battle against the Fir Bolg. I nearly lost an arm and you almost died fighting that champion."

"Sreng. And didn't the Dagda soldiers carry you off the field?"

"At _your_ behest." Nuada narrowed his eyes at John's playful tone. It had been a month since the agent remembered Aengaba's death, and subsequently unlocked the gateway that kept John Myers and Aengaba seperate. For the last couple of weeks, they had been reminiscing about all the things that John remembered, without having to dream them for once. It felt crowded in his head, like he was fitting too many memories inside a human mind, but talking through the memories with Nuada seemed to help. John was just happy that he was still distinctly John, no matter how many memories he added. What Nuada had said was true, there wasn't much difference between his and Aengaba's personalities. 

"And yet they listened." John teased, reveling in this opportunity to provoke Nuada. The prince took a step closer, crowding him into the library bookshelf. His eyes were flashing that predatory gleam that John had come to know from more than a few nights spent in the comfort of Nuada's room.

"What do you imply?" The elf asked darkly, coming chest to chest with his handler. 

"Only that they were obviously worried you couldn't go on. Maybe you should work on your stamina." The agent smirked at him, then found himself picked up and carried over to the couch. 

He bounced slightly when Nuada tossed him down, settling into the cushion as the elf perched between his knees. The elf's cool lips slanted over his, hungrily kissing the breath out of him. Their tongues danced, each exploring and wrestling for dominance. They ground their bodies together, breathing harshly into each other as their hips met again and again. Nuada pulled away from John's mouth to set himself on the agent's neck. He found the juncture of his neck and shoulder, biting just hard enough to leave a mark. John's hips jerked as the sensation shot straight to his groin.

"Airgetlam." He breathed. Nuada's grinding stuttered for an instant, as it always did when John called him by the pet name. Airgetlam. It meant Silver Hand, and the term was Aengaba's teasing way of claiming that Nuada's hands were just as wicked as his silver lance.

"John." The prince growled into the agent's throat and gripped his hips with tight hands. There would be bruises tomorrow, but John didn't care. All that mattered was that Nuada kept moving like that. Over and over until the repetition was driving him mad. The pressure, the electric buzz; John had never felt anything quite like it. Their erections clashed again and again, a much more pleasant battle than the one they had been discussing before. They climbed higher and higher, then, suddenly, both of them arched together and stilled.

John came down from the post-orgasmic high with a contented hum. Nuada looked at him with a smirk. They shared a lingering moment, just dwelling in the warmth between them, before the overhead alarms went off. 

John gave a heavy sigh as he felt Nuada shaking with laughter. It was going to be a one of those days. But he couldn't be upset about that. Not when he had Nuada. 

/END

**Author's Note:**

> Some names and the battle they are talking about at the very end are taken from legends about Nuada Airgetlam, a possible inspiration behind the Nuada from the Golden Army. I suggest you read more about the Tuatha de Danann if you're interested. It's really very intriguing stuff.


End file.
